Lies
by BookLover.Cx
Summary: Draco's thoughts and feelings during Harry, Ron and Hermione's time at Malfoy Manner after being snatched. (Rated M for mentions of torture. Just being sure.)


**Disclaimer: I do not own the extract from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows that has been quoted, or any Harry Potter characters used in this piece, just the idea and thoughts of Draco Malfoy during his time when Harry, Ron and Hermione were Snatched and bought to Malfoy Manor. Hope you like it. It's not long, but it's thoughts I have long since pondered...**

* * *

 _'"Well, Draco?" said Lucius Malfoy... "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"_

 _"I can't—I can't be sure," said Draco…._

 _"But look at him carefully, look! Come closer!… …Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?"_

 _…Draco's expression was full of reluctance, even fear._

 _"I don't know," he said, and he walked away…' - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows; J.K. Rowling._

* * *

The worst situation to be in is lying to those who know you best. Lying in the presence of those who would hurt you in a heartbeat. Lying trying to protect one person whilst hurting others. Trying to save al the lives of the ones you care about is hard, especially under pressure. So what else was I meant to do when the one and only Desirable Number One and his best friends turn up in the Manor's ball room with all the lives at stake? Lie.

Even with the stinging jinx obscuring most of his facial features, I would know the mop of messy black hair anywhere after getting into so many fights with the idiot. Over the years, when one has butted heads with a certain individual as much as Harry Potter and I have, then you learn to recognise even the smallest of things about that person. The little things that make them even easier to identify when they become unrecognisable. Even if that was how his hair fell in particular ways. Or how if you looked into his eyes, they were begging me not to say anything, even if he did not want to admit that I was part of his only hope to escape alive.

I didn't tell Bellatrix that it was Potter, and I had very selfish reasons for doing so. Believe it or not, I did not want Potter to die. I may not like him. No, that is putting it too kindly. I may detest his very being, and Granger and Weasley along side him, but I do not want them to die. Why? Because I am a coward. A coward who does not want someone's death on their hands, even if the person is someone who they despise.

Yes, I admit that I am a coward. There is no hiding it from myself much longer. Just the thought of dooming not only my life, but others as well sends chills down my spine. There is no way that I would face the Dark Lord after if I were to identify him, and I would be as dead as Potter's parents if I to not. There was no winning in this situation. So I took the road that at least left me the opportunity to run: lie. Not give a yes or no answer.

Lying was easier than I thought it would be. Just uttering the words 'I don't know' lifted weight off of my shoulders, even if only for a brief period of time. Such a small amount of time it was too: a matter of minutes. Minutes before Granger started screaming. And that seemed worse than killing them. The echoes of her screams surrounding me, that will no dauntedly repeat in my mind every time I step foot into this room. A permanent reminder of how I played a hand in hurting the famous Golden Trio. I did not realise how much this would affect me, but even though I greatly dislike them, and had caused them much pain in the past, what Bellatrix was doing was pure torture. There was no way I would do what she was doing willingly.

When Potter and Weasley intervened, I was not sure whether to be relieved, or dare I say it, happy. An emotion I had not felt in a long, long, long time. Not for many years. Not since the end of my Fourth Year. That was the last time I had felt true happiness. I had been living in constant fear right up until this very moment where out of nowhere, a slither of hope appeared only to disappear moments later. Even though Potter escaped, I knew that soon, it would be the end. Whether that be of life, of the Dark Lord's rein, or of life as we knew it, I was scared. My Father would expect me not to care. Not to care if another Muggle-born or 'Blood Traitor' was to die, but I did. I cared because I did not want blood on my hands.

And that is when I vowed that I would not intentionally inflict pain on someone else ever again. Not even to save a life. I had already helped save three, and that was a start. And it all started with a lie.


End file.
